Autographs for Freedom Part 3

Let America act on her own avowed principles, that every man is born free, and she will be exalted, when tyrannical, persecuting, slaveholding nations will come to nought.

[Ill.u.s.tration: (signature) Wm. Marsh, D. D.]

H. CANON OF WORCESTER.

The Swiftness of Time in G.o.d.

FROM THE KNABEN WUNDERHORN. (B.I. p. 73, _et seq._)

The general at Grosswardein Had once a little daughter fine:-- Her name was called Theresia,-- G.o.d-loving, modest, chaste and fair:

And from her childhood up was she Most deeply given to piety, With prayers and music's solemn tone She ever praised the Three-in-One.

Whene'er she heard of Jesus' name, Her love and joy flamed brighter flame; Jesus to serve she makes her cross, Devotes herself to be his Spouse.

A n.o.ble lord came her to woo, Her father gave consent thereto; The mother to her daughter said,-- "Dear child, this man thou'lt surely wed."

The daughter said, "Mother of me That can and must not ever be.

My heart is fixed on higher worth, A Bridegroom he not of this earth."

The mother then, "My daughter dear, Ah, do not contradict us here, Thy sire and I we both are old, And G.o.d has blessed our toil with gold."

Thereat the maid began to weep, "I have a lover beloved so deep, To him I've made my promise down; I'll wear for him a virgin crown."

Thereat the sire, "This must not be, My child away this phantasy, Where wilt thou dwell when past thy prime?

We both are old, far gone in time!"

The n.o.ble lord again draws near, And even the bridal feast prepare, For all things soon were ready made,-- But sorrow veils the maiden's head.

Quick to the garden, goeth she, There falls she down upon her knee, Out from her heart her prayer she poured To Jesus her espoused Lord.

She lay before him on her face, And sighed with sighs to win his grace.

The dearest Christ the clouds unrolled, "Look up," said he, "my maid behold!

"Thou yet shalt be, in briefest time, In heaven with me in joy's full prime, And mid the lovely angels there, In full delight and joy appear."

He greets the maiden wondrous fair: She stands before him without fear, Down cast her eyes with modest grace,-- She felt the beauty of his face.

Then speaks the youth, the heavenly King, And weds her with a golden ring;-- "Look there, my bride! Love's pledge for thee, Oh, wear it on thy hand for me."

The maiden then sweet vows took, "My Bridegroom dear!" to Christ she spoke, "Herewith art thou firm wed to me, Henceforth my heart loves none but thee."

Then walked abroad the married pair, And gathered many a blossom fair;-- Jesus thus spake to her anew:-- "Come, and my lovely garden view!"

He took the maiden by the hand, And led her from her fatherland, Unto his Father's garden fair Where many beauteous blossoms are.

The maiden now with joy may win The precious fruits which grow therein; But mortal fancy cannot know The n.o.ble fruits therein which grow.

She hears such music and such song, That length of time seems nothing long, And silver-white the brooklets there Flow ever on so pure and fair.

The youth again addressed the maid, "My garden here thou hast surveyed.

I will again conduct thee home.

To thine own land, the time is come."

The maiden turns with grief away, Comes to the town without delay, The watchman calls, "Stand, who goes there?"

She says, "I to my father must repair!"

"Who is your father, then," quoth he, "The general," she answers free.

The watchman then replied and smiled, "The general;--he has no child."

But by her garments all men see, The maiden is of high degree.

The watchman then conducts her straight Before the guardians of the State.

The maid declares and stands thereto, The general is her father true.

And but two hours have scarcely flown, Since she went out to walk alone.

The guardians saw a wonder great, And asked where she had been of late; Her father's name, his power and race, That she must tell them face to face.

They searched the ancient records through, And this they found was written true, That once was lost a bride so fine From this same city Grosswardein.

The length of time they came to try, And sixteen years they find pa.s.sed by; And yet the maid was fresh and fair, As when first in her fifteenth year.

Thereby the guardians understand This is the work of G.o.d's own hand.

They bring the maiden food to eat, She turns white as a winding-sheet.

"Of earthly things I wish for nought,"

Cries she; "but let a priest be brought, That I may take ere death is sent, The body true in sacrament.

As soon as this last act was done-- And many a Christian looked thereon-- Free from all pain and mortal smart, Then ceased to beat that holy heart.

[Ill.u.s.tration: (signature) Theo. Parker]

Visit of a Fugitive Slave to the Grave of Wilberforce.

On a beautiful morning in the month of June, while strolling about Trafalgar Square, I was attracted to the base of the Nelson column, where a crowd was standing gazing at the bas-relief representations of some of the great naval exploits of the man whose statue stands on the top of the pillar. The death-wound which the hero received on board the Victory, and his being carried from the ship's deck by his companions, is executed with great skill. Being no admirer of warlike heroes, I was on the point of turning away, when I perceived among the figures (which were as large as life) a full-blooded African, with as white a set of teeth as ever I had seen, and all the other peculiarities of feature that distinguish that race from the rest of the human family, with musket in hand and a dejected countenance, which told that he had been in the heat of the battle, and shared with the other soldiers the pain in the loss of their commander. However, as soon as I saw my sable brother, I felt more at home, and remained longer than I had intended. Here was the Negro, as black a man as was ever imported from the coast of Africa, represented in his proper place by the side of Lord Nelson, on one of England's proudest monuments. How different, thought I, was the position a.s.signed to the colored man on similar monuments in the United States. Some years since, while standing under the shade of the monument erected to the memory of the brave Americans who fell at the storming of Fort Griswold, Connecticut, I felt a degree of pride as I beheld the names of two Africans who had fallen in the fight, yet I was grieved but not surprised to find their names colonized off, and a line drawn between them and the whites. This was in keeping with American historical injustice to its colored heroes.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Wm. W. Brown. (Engraved by J. C. b.u.t.tre)]

The conspicuous place a.s.signed to this representative of an injured race, by the side of one of England's greatest heroes, brought vividly before my eye the wrongs of Africa and the philanthropic man of Great Britain, who had labored so long and so successfully for the abolition of the slave trade, and the emanc.i.p.ation of the slaves of the West Indies; and I at once resolved to pay a visit to the grave of Wilberforce.